


princess treatment

by Vault_of_Glass



Series: Kinktober 2018 [3]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Blindfolds, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Temperature Play, Waxplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-24 21:38:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16183685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vault_of_Glass/pseuds/Vault_of_Glass
Summary: Day 3: Blindfolds, Temperature play, Waxplay





	princess treatment

River looks, somehow,  _more_ comfortable blind-folded. Sprawled out across the sheets of their bed without a stitch to wear, that pre-war princess complex coming to the surface, and it warms Hancock’s black little heart to see her so carefree. To know that she puts so much trust in them.

Especially because MacCready looks ready to eat her alive. Hancock reaches out to tug him back by the scruff of his shirt, laughing when he shoots him an impatient look.

“I didn’t spend all morning getting everything ready just for you to jump in and let it all go to waste.”

River hums lovingly from the bed. She glows gold like old statues in the cast of flickering candlelight. “RJ’s too sweet to keep me waiting.” Pleased, as if she expected as much.

MacCready grins at him, the sentiment unspoken:  _I’m **sweet**_.

“He’s soft is what he is, because he knows as well as I do that sometimes you need to be kept waiting.” When he wraps a hand around her ankle, she startles briefly at the touch. He softens his voice, thumb stroking reassuringly over her skin. “Just me, kitten.”

“Surprised me is all.” She makes a show of relaxing against the sheets, hands passive and palms-up above her shoulders. “I’m all yours, boys.”

MacCready gets that tender-eyed expression on his face, the one that only River can coax out of him. “You look amazing, angel.”

She turns toward the sound of his voice, preening at the praise. “Do I?”

Kneading his thumbs in at the sole of River’s foot, Hancock drops a kiss to the delicate rise of her ankle. “You should see him, cher. Like he’s gonna pin you down and fuck you right now if I don’t keep an eye on him.”

“Mmn.” River stretches out her other leg until her toes skim MacCready’s chest. “Is that what you want, baby?”

He chokes out a laugh, catching her foot in his hands and tickling fingers down her leg until she squirms and giggles. His eyes are black with pupil and fixated on the curves of her body, that unerring sniper’s focus effortlessly stolen. “Always.” He nips his teeth along the smooth skin of her thigh, twisting her laughter into a soft moan.

For a moment, Hancock seriously considers letting them have their way. There are few views so satisfying as MacCready fucking River when they’ve both been dying for it all day. He watches River arch and purr like a contented cat under MacCready’s touch and nearly gives in.

But they’re spoiled enough as it is.

Hancock buries his hand in the tawny mess of MacCready’s hair and pulls until he sits up with a reluctant groan. His handiwork remains in pale red hickeys over River’s thighs.

“Spoilsport,” MacCready accuses him, grinning, a flush of pink already warm across his cheeks.

“You two have no fuckin’ patience.”

As River sings her sultry laughter, Hancock slides the small blue cooler closer to the bed with his boot. She perks up at the sound of metal over concrete, tilting her head curiously. He dips his fingers into freezing water and scoops an ice cube into his hand. It melts slowly in his grasp, cold water pooling in his palm.

MacCready sits back on his elbows and waits with an expectant smirk while his fingers trace idle patterns along River’s side. Kid can never seem to keep his damn hands to himself, but Hancock understands the temptation. Feels it in his fingertips, the marrow of his bones, in his dreams when he sleeps.

When she feels the bed dip beneath his weight, River sways in his direction, sightless and seeking his touch. Her hair splays out behind her like spilled moonlight, softest thing he’s ever felt. He plays his fingers through the long white strands and thinks he’ll never tire of the way she leans so eagerly into his hold.

River hums in bliss at the gentle tug of his grip through her hair. Her back arches when MacCready stretches out beside her and sets his mouth to the slope of her ribs, leaving blooms of pink from the scrape of his stubble. She sighs his name and traces blindly up his arm and shoulder to his neck, until she finds his hair and curls it tight between her fingers.

Hancock deliberates. He knows every curve of River’s body by hand and heart, can measure her want by the depth of her breath and the blush that colors her chest - but with the length of her spread out before him like an empty canvas, he can’t decide where to begin.

Her skin is warm when he drags his fingers down the dip between her breasts. She bites her lip around a shallow breath, knees falling open when she feels the rough touch of his hand. He rolls the ice cube up between his thumb and index finger and dips it slowly against her navel, watching her gasp and writhe at the sudden chill. “ _John_ -!”

MacCready pins her hips against the bed as Hancock draws a path of freezing water up her stomach, watching goosebumps rise along her skin. MacCready ducks his head to follow the glisten of wet skin with slow, easy kisses, and she sucks in a shuddering breath, her hips twisting against his grip.

Inspired, Hancock maps the melting ice along her collarbone, over the swell of each breast, teasing her nipples into rigid points. She whines through her teeth and clutches clumsy fingers at the sheets. A shiver grips her spine when a draft blows through the room and chills the water on her skin.

Hancock presses another ice cube into MacCready’s hand and leaves him teasing it down River’s thighs as he plucks the small round candle from her end table. He tips it over his open hand, testing the burn as the wax hits his palm, where it stings for the span of a few heartbeats before fading to a dull, sweet throb.  _Nothin’ our girl can’t handle._

MacCready watches this process with interest. His hands have been busy soothing over every icy trail they’ve left across her skin, coaxing little sighs and happy murmurs from deep in her lungs. Hancock settles at the foot of the bed and draws her leg over his lap, and River acquiesces smoothly to his guidance.

“Take a deep breath for me, kitten,” he rasps, waiting for the rise of breath in her chest and the fall when she releases. He holds the candle high above her skin and lets it slowly tilt until wax pools and spills and lands in searing lines across her thigh. River gasps and jerks against their hands, moaning as the wax begins to cool and that delicate ache throbs to the surface. Her voice threads into a soft whimper, pained and impatient for more all at once.

Hancock hitches his voice low, leaning close to whisper at the shell of her ear. “Too much?”

“Just right,” she pants back, smiling. He lingers to claim her mouth in a rough kiss, tasting the sweet of bubblegum on her tongue, and she nips him with her teeth in response. His cock twitches eagerly at the sting.

“You’re gonna be marked up somethin’ fierce by the time we’re done with you,” he promises with a dark chuckle.

“I can take it.” Her voice is teasing and breathless as she finds the waistband of MacCready’s pants and hooks her fingers through the belt loops, yanking him closer. She turns to kiss him too, her searching hand slipping into his pants, and Hancock can tell from his reedy groan exactly when she wraps those skillful velvet fingers around his cock.

MacCready rounds his mouth against the column of her throat and bites a strangled noise into her skin. His fingers hunt up her thighs, over the ridges of cooled wax, to the glisten of slick between her thighs. He curses through his teeth when he feels the silky heat there. “Christ, Riv, you’re fucking soaked.”

“Then stop teasing me,” she whines, grinding her hips into his touch.

He laughs and traces lazy circles with his thumb that make her sob and throw her head back. “Y’know, I think Hancock was right. You do look better waiting.”

Hancock flashes his teeth in a wolfish grin. “Delayed gratification, sunshine. You’ll thank me later.” He runs his palm down her side, where her skin glows pink with cold, and grips a handful of the generous flesh at her hip. “I want you on your knees, sweet thing.”

River always takes orders with a placid sense of calm, as if complying to his word eases a little of the stress that bears so heavy on her shoulders. She rolls gracefully onto her knees and holds there, balanced on her palms and waiting eagerly for the next touch. Her hair swings loose over her shoulders, clinging to the damp of sweat along her back.

MacCready swallows hard and palms himself through the rough denim of his pants. Hancock watches him struggle to tear his eyes away from the glossy pink of arousal between River’s legs. He knows the poor kid’s been fighting a losing battle. His restraint hardly fares any better when River presents herself for them so freely.

Hancock almost forgets about the candle in his hands. Melted wax has gathered in a puddle around the wick, and he drips a thin curve down the slope of her back. She seizes at the burn, gasping out a frantic  _please_ between her teeth, and that broken plea is apparently all MacCready can take before he groans and kneels between her thighs and drags her bodily against his mouth. She’s still reeling from the pain when he sucks her folds between his lips, and she whimpers as the sting fades rapidly into sharp wrings of pleasure.

Hancock dabbles wax in blossoms of heat across her back and drinks in every desperate whimper she sings. Between the fading aches of melted wax and MacCready’s greedy mouth, her body tenses up and shivers from the complementary sensations, her arms trembling beneath her weight. When the candle’s burned nearly down to the wick, he sets it aside and dunks his hands into the cooler of ice water, hissing softly at the frigid cold. His hands are still wet and icy when he soothes his fingers down her back, where the wax has left her skin a criss cross of bright crimson.

River moans and shudders under his touch, sobbing with relief. She gropes for his hand, and he laces cold fingers with hers, smiling when she brings it to her mouth for a clumsy kiss. “Love you,” she sighs against his knuckles.

“Love you too, sunshine. Mac too. His mouth’s a little full.”

Her shoulders tremble with laughter, but the sound falls apart into a raspy moan as MacCready eats her like a starving man. “He’s perfect,” she pants. “He’s so good, he’s… mn -  _god_ , he’s gonna make me  _come_ -”

“Let’s see it, then, kitten.”

River tenses, biting out a heavy breath before she gasps and finally unravels in his arms. Her nails curl sharp into the back of his hand as she comes with a wild scream. MacCready doesn’t stop, working two rough fingers in to fuck her through it until she whines and jerks away from him, still shaking. “Baby -” she pleads, and he relents, sitting back and swiping his palm across his smirk. His chest heaves as he catches his breath, watching them with that dreamy-eyed gaze.

River collapses against the sheets, and Hancock gingerly begins to trace the lines of pink across her back with his fingers. She lifts the blindfold from her eyes and tosses it to the floor, blinking up at him as he soothes the lingering pain from her skin.

“Have fun, sunshine?”

“Mmn.” Her voice sounds wrecked and raw, but her smile is the most blissful he’s seen in a long time. “Always.” When MacCready curls up on her other side, she presses a sated, loving kiss to his swollen mouth. “Love you.”

“Of course.” He grins, licking contentedly at his teeth. “Love you, too.”

She pats the side of his face with affection and rolls onto her back, shooting Hancock a tempting smile.

He arches the ridge of his brow at her. “What do you want, princess?”

“After that?” The blush deepens on her cheeks as she considers. “Make love to me. Be sweet.”

His heart squeezes in his chest. He cradles her face between his hands and drops his lips tenderly to hers. “We can do that.”

“Good.” She kisses his jaw and falls back against the pillow, beckoning for him to follow. “And remind me to thank you later.”


End file.
